Mustang and Ed Go Camping
by Obsessive Explosion
Summary: Ed and Mustang go on a disastrous camping trip.
1. Chapter 1

"Are we there yet?" Ed whined, kicking his short legs against the floor of Mustang's car.

"Fullmetal, we've been driving for twenty minutes," Mustang said. "We are not there yet. Not even close."

Mustang still had mixed feelings about bringing Ed along on his camping trip, the special one that he used to share with Hughes before he…. No, Mustang didn't want to think about that right now. He couldn't. He had come out to have a good time, to relax and unwind away from the pressures of Central. But he wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to do that with the kid along. They'd been gone less than an hour, and already he was making Mustang want to pull his hair out.

But Riza had insisted it was a good idea, and Mustang suspected that Riza knew what she was doing better than he did. It wasn't until Mustang had asked Havoc to camp with him (he had refused on the grounds of a date) and Riza herself (who had just flat out told him no), that Riza had suggested Fullmetal to him. She had said it would be good for Ed to get out of Central for a little while too, and by that point Mustang was fresh out of options anyway.

Mustang had tried to go back to the cabin he and Hughes had shared on so many trips just once after his friend's death. He hadn't even made it a night. The memories had been too much for him, and he'd ended up returning to Central only a few hours after he'd left, apologizing to Hughes the whole way home. This time, Mustang knew better than to try to do it alone, which was the biggest reason he'd brought Fullmetal along.

"I'm hungry," the young alchemist said. Mustang narrowed his eyes at the road and didn't say anything. Maybe if he ignored the kid, he would shut up.

It didn't work. "Colonel, I'm hungry. Do we have anything to eat?"

Mustang took a steadying breath. "We have food for the trip," he said, "but it's all in the trunk. You can wait the two hours until we get to the cabin."

Fullmetal pouted a little bit, but he didn't complain anymore about the lack of food. Mustang breathed a sigh of relief.

It didn't last long.

"Two hours?" the kid asked plaintively.

 _Why did I agree to this?_ Mustang clenched his hands around the wheel, trying to prevent himself from pulling the car over and leaving Ed on the side of the road. He didn't answer.

"Can we at least listen to music?" Ed asked, already reaching for the dial on the radio.

"The station doesn't reach out here," Mustang explained as the radio hissed and crackled with static. He did his best not to enjoy the look of dismay on Ed's face…not too much, anyway.

"Two hours…you could take a nap," Mustang suggested hopefully. Ed glared at him, but the look was somewhat ruined as he swallowed an enormous yawn. With as much dignity as he could summon, the young alchemist slumped into the corner of his seat, turning his back to Mustang. Finally, blissful silence.

Ed slept through the rest of the drive, not even stirring as Mustang pulled up to the familiar cabin. He turned off the car and stared at the glint of the sun off the lake where he'd spent so many days with his friend.

 _Well, Hughes, I finally made it back…I'm sorry it took me so long. I just…for a while, it was too hard. But I think I'm ready to try again, and I'll make sure Fullmetal loves this place as much as you did._ He paused, remembering Hughes' unbridled enthusiasm, and smiled slightly to himself.

"Well, maybe not that much," he said quietly, and shook Fullmetal awake.

Ed sat up, yawning, and examined his new surroundings. Mustang watched him warily, hoping that the verdict would be a positive one, yet unwilling to admit even to himself how important it was that Ed approved.

"I've never seen a forest like this before," Ed finally said, eyes wide.

Mustang felt a sudden rush of gratitude. He smiled at Ed. "Not many trees where you grew up?"

Ed shook his head, still staring at the lake and surrounding forest. Mustang felt momentarily sorry for the young alchemist. He had never had anyone to show him things like this before. And Mustang knew, probably better than anyone, how being raised without a father could affect a boy.

"Me either," he admitted. Ed looked at him, clearly a little surprised. "I hadn't really seen anything like this until Hughes took me here a few years ago. It's…."

"It's amazing," Ed said firmly, and opened the door. "Can we get the food out of the trunk now?''  
Shaking his head, Mustang got out of the car. Riza had been right - as usual. This weekend wouldn't be nearly as bad as he'd expected.

The cabin itself had belonged to Hughes' family. Hughes had been coming here since he was a small child, and he had known the place like he'd known the back of his hand. Mustang hadn't been coming here for nearly so long, maybe one week a summer for the past five years or so. He and Hughes would fish in comfortable silence on the tranquil lake, and then Mustang would use his alchemy to light a fire and they would cook and eat whatever it was that they had managed to catch that day. Mustang had never had the heart to tell Hughes that he didn't enjoy fishing all that much. But now that didn't seem to matter. Everything about the cabin seemed slightly better, because the memory of Hughes was drifting through it like a ghost.

The cabin was small, but not too small. There was a cramped main room, with a sofa in the corner and a square table squished up against one side, and two bedrooms, each containing a narrow bed. It wasn't enough room to spread out, certainly, but it was enough room to be happy. It was cozy, really.

Mustang knew that Hughes had hoped to come here with his wife and daughter one day, once Elicia was old enough that he wouldn't have to constantly have to worry about her drowning in the lake. Mustang thought that Hughes would have been happy that he was coming here with Ed now. Hughes had always thought this was a place meant for a family.

Not that that's what he and Ed were. He wasn't Ed's father, he was his superior officer. But at least he could get the kid some fresh air, and the cabin wouldn't be standing almost empty with only Mustang inside it.

It only took the two of them around an hour to unpack everything. They were only planning on staying for a week, and they didn't need to bring anything that alchemy could provide. They didn't need to bring much food either, since part of the fun of staying in a place like this was trying to catch it for yourself.

Mustang walked the perimeter of the cabin with Ed by his side, checking for anything that seemed out of place or had been damaged since he'd last been here. The kid had a sandwich in his hand that he was eating as they walked, and he was remarking in awe over every small thing, as if he'd never been in a forest before at all. It was a little annoying, but Mustang didn't dare shut him down. Ed had gotten less of a childhood than most, and who was Mustang to deny him this one thing? So when Ed excitedly picked up a pinecone, or pointed at a chipmunk barely visible through the trees, Mustang just smiled and nodded and let him be.

They completed their circuit of the cabin, and nothing seemed wrong. Mustang nodded, satisfied, and headed for the door. Ed stuffed the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and followed.

"So when's lunch?"

Mustang frowned at the mustard smear on Ed's upper lip. "You've just had it."

"That was a snack. I'm still hungry."

Mustang thought of the limited food he'd packed and sighed. Then, he brightened. This was a great opportunity to introduce Ed to the art of fishing…not that he would enjoy it any more than Mustang had at first.

"We'll catch our lunch."

"But-"

"It's easy," Mustang proclaimed with a surety that he didn't entirely feel. "Come on, I'll get you some gear."

The fishing gear was still in the trunk where he and Hughes had left it. Carefully, he pulled out the rods they'd used, Hughes' long bamboo rod and his slightly shorter, newer one. _I guess you won't mind if I use your rod, will you?_ He handed his old rod to Ed, who looked at it dubiously. Next was the box filled to overflowing with lures, bobbers, spinners, and bait, most of them with obscure uses even Hughes didn't know. He placed that on the floor and stared into the bottom of the trunk with a sudden pang of sorrow. There, beneath the spare reels of line, lay Hughes' old fishing vest. It was a preposterous piece of clothing, made of faded green canvas and absolutely covered in pockets. But every time that Mustang had come up to the cabin, his friend had worn it, despite all of Mustang's considerable teasing. After a moment's deliberation, he lifted it out and put it on over his shirt. It was a little too big for him, and he saw Ed giving him a strange look, but he didn't care.

He picked up Hughes' bamboo rod and grabbed the tackle box. On the way out the door, he lifted his fishing hat from the peg and pulled it down onto his forehead. Then, with Ed in his wake, he made his way to the dock.

"Um, Colonel?" Ed said when they were about halfway to the dock. He broke off, giggling a little bit.

"What is it, Fullmetal?"

"Why...why are you wearing that hat?" As he said it, he broke into peals of laughter. When Mustang turned around to look at him, the humor of the situation overwhelmed Ed, and he had to stop walking, bending over as he tried to catch his breath.

"It's not that funny," Mustang said as his eyebrows knitted together.

"I just...I can't believe you're wearing a hat!"

Mustang took the hat off and considered it. The first time he had come here with Hughes, when Ishval was recent enough that they both still had nightmares, when Gracia had just found out that she was pregnant, Mustang hadn't had the hat. The first day he and Hughes had gone fishing, the pale skin on Mustang's face had burned so badly that Hughes had worried they would need to cut the trip short so they could take Mustang to a hospital. It had hurt for the rest of the trip, and spent the next week or so peeling. After that, Mustang wearing a hat had been a condition of him being allowed to come to the cabin. The week didn't really start until Mustang had his fishing hat on.

"It's...it's just so I don't burn," Mustang said softly, unsure why, precisely, he felt the need to defend himself to the kid.

"It looks stupid," Ed said definitively. "I'm not sure I'll be able to take you seriously when you're wearing that."  
"I'll leave it," Mustang said, not completely sure why he did. He was Ed's superior officer, he had no reason to try to impress the boy. He really had no reason to consider anything the kid was saying at all. But, while he did still technically have authority over Ed, for the most part he had put that power on hold for the week the second he invited the kid on the trip. He set the hat down. Ed giggled a little more, and then subsided.

"Have you ever fished before?" Mustang asked Ed once they were finally on the dock.

"Not really," Ed said. The young alchemist was peering somewhat anxiously into the dark water beneath the dock, eyeing it like he thought there was a chance it would suddenly grow arms and reach up to grab him.

"Well, I'm not sure you'll like it much at first," Mustang said. "But like you said, you have to eat."

Ed frowned, but before he could think of a counterargument, Mustang opened the tackle box and beckoned him over. Somewhat reluctantly, Fullmetal wandered over to join him. Mustang held up the different lures and explained each one, remembering when Hughes had done the same for him. He thought that the glazed look on Ed's face right now was probably the same one he'd had at the time, so he couldn't entirely begrudge the young alchemist's disinterest. Eventually, he just selected Ed's lure for him and deftly tied it onto the line. He handed Ed a can of worms and turned back to his own fishing rod. The lure he'd been using for five years was still in its place in the tackle box.

He turned back to Ed and found him staring at the worms in confusion and distaste.

"Why did you give me a can of worms?"

"Bait," Mustang explained. "What do you think fish eat?"

"I don't know, other fish? Bugs? Plants?" Ed said unhappily.

"Well, we don't have other fish, bugs or plants," Mustang said. He reached into the can and found a nice, juicy worm. He put it on the end of his hook, then relented at Ed's slightly horrified expression. The kid had seen a lot of death, and the fact that killing a worm still bothered him a little was probably a good sign. Who was he to change that? Besides, this was supposed to be their break from making hard choices.

"If you don't want to use a worm, try using bread. Some fish will eat anything."

Ed looked at him gratefully and plunged a hand into his pocket. He took out a small piece of bread and jammed it onto the end of his hook. Mustang raised his eyebrows, and Ed shrugged sheepishly.

"I made another sandwich."

Mustang chuckled softly and shook his head. Ed's appetite could prove a serious problem. Still, food was why he was out here in the first place. Patiently, he picked up his rod and began to explain casting.

A little while later, Mustang had caught two decent sized fish. Ed had caught nothing. That was partially due to his refusal to leave the bobber in the water for any length of time, but when Mustang had (in his most patient tone) pointed that failing out, Ed had snarled at him and continued to struggle. Now, he was glaring at Mustang's two fish in sullen envy. Mustang shrugged and packed up the tackle box, gesturing for Ed to follow him back up to the cabin.

"So, Fullmetal, do you know how to filet a fish?"

Three hours later, the fish were cleaned and gutted, the sun was starting to set, and Ed was traipsing through the woods, trying to locate enough wood for a fire. "Is this enough?' he asked, stumbling up to Mustang and holding out an armful of sticks.

Mustang eyed the wood skeptically. "Those are all pretty small, Fullmetal. We need to keep a fire going for a long time. Can you find anything bigger?"  
"But you have fire alchemy," the boy whined. "Why do we even need sticks in the first place?"

Mustang sighed. He knew Ed understood how fire alchemy worked, at least well enough, and was just starting to get tired of rooting around in the woods for twigs. But they should have almost enough anyways. Even though they would need fuel to keep the fire going, Mustang's alchemy should be able to make up for most of what their wood lacked. And if it really came down to it, Mustang could just flame-broil the fish directly and they wouldn't need to bother with a fire at all.

"That's probably enough, Fullmetal," Mustang said. "Just put them over here."

Ed set the sticks down, and then turned back to Mustang. "Colonel, your face is really red," he said. "Are you alright?"  
Mustang looked down at the ground. He didn't particularly want to answer, because he knew the kid was going to laugh at him. "It's a sunburn," he said finally. "Because I didn't wear my hat."

Sure enough, Ed burst out laughing. Mustang stared at him, a little unsure of what to do. Part of him wanted to order the boy to stop. Most of him knew that that was a horrible idea, that he owed it to the boy to give him a break from the inescapable chain of command.

Eventually, Mustang started laughing too, a little bit. It was sort of funny, he supposed, but it would have been funnier if his face didn't feel like it might start peeling off.

It would have been funnier if he hadn't promised Hughes he would always wear the hat if he decided to go fishing. But Mustang didn't want to think about that, not now.

Mustang arranged the wood that the kid had brought and then used his glove to set it aflame. Immediately, it went up in a crackling blaze, and Mustang saw Ed flash a quick smile of pleasure. In his life, he had mostly known fire as a weapon, a tool for destruction. Mustang wasn't sure the kid had ever really seen its life-giving abilities. This was all new territory for him.

Mustang put the fish on the fire to cook, and they watched the stars come out in companionable silence. Mustang looked up at the constellations. In Central, sometimes the buildings blocked the night sky – not that he often had the time to look up. He'd always appreciated these chances to get away from the city and forget his obligations. He hoped that Fullmetal would feel the same.

He looked over at Ed, who was staring intently at the fish. He touched his shoulder, and the young alchemist looked over. Mustang pointed into the sky.

"Look…the stars are coming out. See that bright one right there?"

Ed nodded. "Isn't that supposed to be the brightest star in the night sky?"

"That's right. It's called the Wayfinder, because it leads north. It's better than any compass, if you ever find yourself lost at night."

Ed stared up at the Wayfinder. "How do they know?" he eventually asked.

Mustang raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised by Ed's interest. "I don't know who discovered it," he told him, "but soldiers used to use it on night marches. I know a lot of men who still put their trust in the Wayfinder over any navigational equipment we have now. Of course, that makes them pretty helpless during the daytime."

Ed laughed, and Mustang smiled, slightly surprised about how good that made him feel. Ed pointed to another constellation, a band of stars shaped a little like a crescent moon.

"What's that one called?"

"Soldiers call that one the Tavern Wench," Mustang said, realizing at the last minute that he probably shouldn't be sharing this with a fifteen year old. "Umm…I don't know its real name."

Ed frowned. "Why the Tavern Wench?"

Mustang sighed. He was in too deep to back out now. "Well…see how that line there looks a little like a skirt? That's flying up?"

Ed squinted at the sky, then tilted his head. Suddenly, he broke into a grin and snickered. "I see it! Wow, I can't wait to show it to Ling! I wonder what they call it in Xing?"

"Probably not the Wench," muttered Mustang.

"What other constellations do you know?" Ed asked, but Mustang wasn't sure that he should share anymore.

"Oh, look, the fish is done," he said hastily. He pulled them off the fire and distributed them between the two plates.

Mustang handed one of the plates to Ed, and saw the kid light up with excitement. "Thank god!" Ed exclaimed. "I was getting so hungry."

"Fullmetal, we haven't even been here for a day and you've already eaten at least five times."  
Ed shrugged a little. "I need to eat," he said. He started to pull the fish apart with his fingers, gasping with pain when they burned his hand.

"Fullmetal, that's too hot to touch, wait for it to cool down a little bit…."  
"That's why I have these," Ed said, wiggling his metal fingers in front of Mustang. He used his automail hand to start shoveling the fish into his mouth. "This is pretty good," he said, mouth full.

Mustang was a touch more civilized than the kid, so he waited for the fish to cool down some and then used silverware to cut it into pieces. But he did have to agree with Ed's assessment. It was quite good, especially considering Mustang wasn't much of a cook.

The two stayed around the fire for a couple of hours, sitting cross-legged on the ground and watching the sparks drift up to join the stars. Mustang realized to his shock that the kid had never had s'mores, and was given the pleasure of introducing him to them. Ed told a few ghost stories with varying levels of success, gesturing widely with his arms and using the shadows cast by the fire to set the mood. Mustang hadn't really understood how much pressure Ed was constantly under in Central until he saw him like this, without the same anxiety weighing down his steps. It was nice to be able to see the kid actually _be a kid._

And Mustang, almost despite himself, found that he was having fun. He remembered sitting around a fire just like this with Hughes, and while he certainly wished Hughes was here with them, the memory didn't bring a bitter taste to his mouth the way it had before. He kind of felt like he was honoring his friend by teaching Ed how to camp the same way Hughes had taught Mustang. Even though Mustang knew better, he kind of felt like Hughes was there with them.

After a while, Ed started yawning, and Mustang suggested that they go to sleep, telling him that they should get an early start the next day and try to get some more fishing in. Ed obediently shuffled off and started getting himself ready for bed, leaving Mustang alone by the fire. He spent a few moments staring into the flames, deep in thought.

"Well, Hughes," he finally said, "wish me luck for tomorrow. It's a lot of work trying to entertain this kid."

Then Mustang put the fire out, and went to get ready for bed too.

The following morning got off to a rocky start. When Mustang woke up bright and early (the best time for fishing, Hughes had always insisted), Fullmetal refused to get up. Mustang shook his shoulder, but Ed just moaned angrily.

"Fullmetal, get up!"

"It's not a vacation if I have to wake up early," Ed said grumpily from beneath his pillow.

"The fish are up," Mustang pointed out. Ed was unmoved by his flawless logic.

"Leave me alonnnneee," he whined.

"Fullmetal…." Mustang crossed his arms and waited. Eventually, Ed realized that he wasn't going to go away and sat up, hair sticking up crazily.

"I'm up," he said sullenly.

"Excellent. I'll get our gear. Maybe today you'll get lucky!"

Unfortunately for them both, Ed did not seem to be getting lucky. Despite Mustang's repeated explanation of the technique of casting, the young alchemist could not figure out how to handle the fishing rod. After the fourth time Mustang watched Ed throw the lure into the dock, he intervened.

"Fullmetal, let me-"

Ed scowled and raised the rod. "No! I can do it!" He whipped the rod around with all his strength and let out the line. Mustang watched the line spool out with a fair amount of pride, and Ed grinned and began to reel it in.

"Hey, I think I got something!"

Mustang winced and raised a hand to his head. His eyes widened. "No, wait! Stop!"

Beside him, Ed continued to wind the line, yanking the rod left and right to confuse the fish on the other end. Unfortunately for Mustang, it wasn't a fish.

"Fullmetal, that's my hair- owwww!"

Ed dropped the rod and jumped back guiltily as Mustang untangled Ed's hook from his hair. He handed it back to the young alchemist and warily moved back to a safer distance.

"I can...do you actually want me to teach you to fish? If I gave you just a couple pointers, I bet you could start catching some."

Ed rolled his eyes and snorted disdainfully. And then started trying to untangle his line. And then finally looked up at Mustang. "Fine," he said, his voice as sullen as he could make it. "I _guess_ you can give me some tips."

After about ten minutes of careful instruction, the kid had actually kind of gotten the hang of it. He still lacked Mustang's patience, but at least he was holding the rod correctly and the hook was actually ending up in the water. Mustang thought he was probably still jerking the line around too much to have much luck actually catching anything, but maybe with a few more days of practice….

"Colonel, I think I caught something!" Ed suddenly yelled. "I...I can feel it tugging…."

He stood up abruptly, causing the line to bob wildly. He held tight to the rod with one arm, while the other waved around with pleasure.

"Good job, Fullmetal! Now just see if you can reel it in…."

Ed sucked in a sharp, excited breath. "I'm trying to…."

Then several things happened at once. Maybe the fish tugged on the line a little harder than expected, or maybe the kid just lost his grip. But either way, the rod flew out of Ed's hands. He lunged forward, trying to grab it, but his balance was already shot from flailing around so much, and before Mustang could so much as move a muscle, the kid had plunged off the end of the dock and into the water.

"Fullmetal!" Mustang yelled, scrambling to the edge of the dock. He leaned over frantically, waiting for Ed to pop back up to the surface so Mustang could help him back onto dry land.

Mustang kept waiting, heart hammering painfully in his chest.

And Ed stayed down.

It was a few moments before Mustang remembered something that chilled him to the bone. _Automail._ The kid's metal limbs were probably dragging him downwards, there was no way he'd be able to swim with them. He hadn't surfaced yet because he physically could not.

So without hesitation, Mustang threw himself over the edge of the dock and into the lake. He dove straight for where he'd seen Fullmetal disappear, frantically searching for Ed's hair, clothes, arm, _anything_. He could feel his air running out, but if he couldn't breathe, what did that mean for Ed? So he stayed under, and right before his lungs gave out, his grasping fingers touched metal. _His arm._

Mustang grabbed Ed's arm and swam for the surface. It was hard going towing Ed, who was heavier than he looked…the automail again. But finally, he broke the surface with a gasp and hauled Ed up after him.

His heart skipped a beat. Ed's face was deathly pale, and he didn't seem to be breathing. Mustang blanched and wrestled Ed onto the dock, where he lay unmoving in a puddle of lakewater. Mustang scrambled up to join him, shaking his shoulder urgently.

"Fullmetal!"

But the young alchemist didn't stir, and his chest wasn't rising. Fighting panic, Mustang began CPR. With each compression, he chastised himself for allowing this to happen. _How could I have been so stupid? I'm a soldier, not a..._ He wasn't exactly sure what role he'd been trying to fill, but whatever it was, it had gone very wrong indeed. _I'm a killer. That's what I do, and I shouldn't have tried to be anything else. I..._

And then Ed coughed up a lungful of lakewater and opened his eyes. Mustang gasped, unable to believe his eyes, and then swept the boy into his arms in an uncharacteristic hug. He knelt on the wooden slats, holding Ed as he coughed, both of them dripping with freezing water.

"I thought I'd killed you," Mustang told the back of Ed's head.

Ed coughed again and gently extricated himself from Mustang, who let him go, mildly embarrassed, but still shaking with relief.

"I'm alive," Ed said, although he barely looked it. He was blue with cold, and his hair was plastered around his face, dripping incessantly and contributing to the chill that was making his teeth chatter.

"Y-you could light a f-f-fire, though," he added, slightly accusatorily.

"I'm sorry," Mustang said dryly, "I seem to have soaked my gloves _and_ my lighter somehow. Come on, let's go inside. There are matches in the cabin."

He stood up and helped Ed off the dock. Ed took a step and stumbled, just a little, but Mustang placed a steadying hand on his arm. Ed didn't protest, which worried Mustang more than if Ed had refused his help and fallen flat on his face. Gently, he guided Ed toward the cabin, trying to ignore Ed's steady stream of muttered complaints about the downsides to flame alchemy.

By the time they reached the cabin, Ed was trembling so badly that he could barely talk. Mustang watched as he tried to open the door, but his hand was shaking too badly and he couldn't seem to get a grip on the knob. Mustang reached around him to open it, keeping one supportive hand on the kid's back in case he stumbled again.

"I hate...having...automail…." Ed muttered as Mustang steered him inside the cabin. He broke into another fit of coughing, and Mustang brought him over to the small couch and sat him down.

"Rest here for a second," Mustang said distractedly, eyes darting frantically around the cabin. "I'm going to try to get you...a blanket or something…."

Mustang wasn't sure exactly where Hughes had kept any spare blankets that the cabin might have, and he knew he needed to warm the kid up quick or he was going to get sick. He ended up just stripping the blanket off his own bed, sure he would have time to find some other solution before he actually ended up needing to sleep. He brought the wool blanket back out into the main room, where Ed was still shivering and dripping lakewater onto the sofa.

"Here," he said, tossing the blanket at Ed. "I'm going to try to find you some dry clothes."

"Thank...thank you," Ed coughed weakly. Mustang's eyes narrowed a little. The kid never thanked him for anything.

Mustang watched for a few moments as Ed fumbled with the blanket, trying to force his shaking hands to get a grip on it and bring it around his shoulders. Eventually, Mustang got tired of watching the alchemist struggle, and he carefully extricated the blanket from Ed's trembling hands and wrapped it around him. Ed refused to meet Mustang's eyes. He didn't say anything to him.

Just then, the phone rang from the small kitchen, startling them both. Mustang swore under his breath. This was a terrible time for a call, regardless of who it was from. Mustang's voice was still rather breathless from the cold, and he didn't want to leave the kid alone long enough to have some drawn out conversation in the kitchen. He let the phone ring again, unsure of what to do.

"Are you going to get that?" Ed finally asked weakly. Mustang found himself nodding. He retreated into the kitchen so he could answer the call. Riza's voice greeted him from the other end.

"Colonel?"  
"Ah, Lieutenant," he said distractedly, peering back into the living room. Ed was still shivering on the couch. Mustang stretched the phone cord as far as it would go and managed to at least end up in the same room.

"I just have a quick question."

"What is it?"

"Wait, are you alright?" Riza said, sounding suddenly suspicious. "You sound...odd."

"I'm fine," Mustang replied, beginning to fumble with the matches. He tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear and began trying to open the box. His hands shook with cold and he dropped the matches, swearing.

"Colonel?"

"What was that question?" Mustang asked, trying to distract her. Behind him, Ed coughed.

"Hey, what about the fire?" he said.

Mustang finally managed to extract a match, then dropped it again.

"I am doing my best, Fullmetal," he hissed.

"What?" Riza asked.

"Nothing, Lieutenant. Please, continue." Finally, he struck a match and got the fire going. Both he and Ed sighed with relief, and he tuned in to the telephone call to realize that he hadn't caught what Riza had said at all.

"Umm…."

"Colonel, what is going on?"

Mustang looked at Ed, who vehemently shook his head. _"I'm fine,"_ he mouthed.

"Umm, nothing, Fullmetal and I are just trying to…cook some…fish," he said lamely. There was silence from the other end. Then, in an incredible display of poor timing, Ed had a coughing fit. Mustang winced and backed into the kitchen, but it was too late.

"What happened?" Riza asked calmly. Then, she waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually, Mustang cleared his throat sheepishly.

"...there was a slight… _incident_ while fishing this morning."

Riza waited some more. Mustang, feeling rather as though he were being scolded at school, continued.

"...and Fullmetal fell in the lake. I went in after him." Deciding this seemed too ambiguous, he rushed on. "Everything's fine now."

"You're bringing Ed to the doctor now, right?"

Ed shook his head frantically. " _No doctors,"_ he mouthed.

"No," Mustang said slowly. "I...I don't think that's going to be necessary. It was a bit of an incident this morning, but he seems completely alright now. I believe we intend to finish out the trip as planned."

"Colonel, if Ed got water into his lungs then it is absolutely imperative that you get him checked out. Otherwise he could get very seriously ill."

Mustang looked back at Ed again. The kid was shaking his head frantically.

"Fullmetal seems completely alright to me," Mustang said. "He should be fine for the rest of the week." There was silence on the other end. Mustang waited for Riza to say something. She didn't. "Lieutenant?"

Riza gave a small sigh. "Sir, if you're not leaving, I'm coming up." Before he could dissuade her, the line went dead.

Mustang returned the phone to his spot and looked at Ed. The young alchemist's hands were still trembling a little where they were clutched around the blanket, but at least he no longer looked like he was on the verge of flying apart. Water from his hair was still streaming into his eyes. Some of the color had returned to his face, but his lips were still pale. He looked a bit like a drowned rat to Mustang.

"What did she say?" Ed asked. Apparently he'd been able to hear some of the conversation, but not all of it.

Mustang sighed. "She's coming up," he said. He had the pleasure of watching the boy's eyes widen in shock.

"Here?"  
Mustang nodded. "Hawkeye's efficient, I can't imagine it taking her more than a few hours to get here."

"But...why? Does she not think we can handle being up here alone?" Ed's eyes narrowed a little bit. "You didn't tell her I almost died, did you?"

"You told her yourself, with your incessant coughing. She thinks you're going to...fall seriously ill or something if you don't see a doctor, and when I told her we wouldn't leave she...I guess she decided the best thing she could do was come up here."

Ed rested his head in his hand, the one that wasn't made of metal. "Do you think she's going to be mad at me?" he groaned.

Mustang stiffened a little bit. Why would Riza be mad at the kid? If Riza was mad at anyone, it was certainly going to be Mustang himself. After all, Mustang was the one who had almost killed Ed, and now was allowing him to stay out in the wilderness instead of ensuring that he got proper medical care.

Not that he needed medical care, not in Mustang's opinion. Mustang had fallen into the lake plenty of times when he'd come down here with Hughes, and he'd never ended up any worse for the wear from it. The kid would be fine.

"She won't be mad at you," Mustang said firmly. _Me, on the other hand..._


	2. Chapter 2

Riza drove toward the cabin in her neighbor's car, quietly fuming. The Colonel was a brilliant tactician, and undoubtedly an excellent man in a sticky situation, but he could be incredibly dense. She knew that he wanted this trip to be perfect for a variety of reasons, but letting Ed come down with…who knows what would certainly throw a wrench in the works. She shook her head. Colonel Mustang and the Fullmetal Alchemist were the two most stubborn people she'd ever met. Usually, however, Ed and Mustang were at each others' throats. She shuddered to think about how impossible they would be on the same side. She could imagine Ed firmly denying that anything was wrong until he shivered himself into an early grave, with Mustang doggedly supporting the insanity. The least she could do was be present to ensure that didn't happen.

Still, she wasn't thrilled that she had to abandon her own plans - rare as they were - and come rescue the Colonel and Ed from their own pride. She sighed. _It's not the first time, and it probably won't be the last._

Mustang answered the door when she knocked. He at least had the grace to look apologetic as he took her bag and welcomed her inside.

"Lieutenant. You didn't have to leave Central, you know. I'm sure that you had plans."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, but I felt that it was best." She craned her neck around Mustang and looked for Ed. He was sitting by the fireplace wrapped in a blanket, looking miserable. She raised an eyebrow at her superior officer, voicing her displeasure as much as she felt was appropriate. He looked away, and Ed glanced up from his seat on the fireplace.

"Hi, Riza."

"Hello, Ed," she said. "How are you feeling?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "I'm _fine_ ," he said, sounding infuriated. "It was just a…."

"A hiccup," Mustang volunteered. "A small hiccup in an otherwise uneventful trip."

Ed nodded vigorously. "Exactly. See, everything's fine. Do you like fishing?"

Riza didn't know if she liked fishing. She rather doubted that she would. In fact, she thought that she remembered Mustang complaining about fishing. But Hughes had liked it, which was good enough for him.

Mustang cleared his throat, breaking into her thoughts.

"Well, since you're here…I'll give you the tour and you can unpack." He began walking toward one of the two bedrooms.

"Sir, it's no trouble. I'll take the couch." She eyed it dubiously. It didn't seem very comfortable, but she didn't want to impose on their trip _too_ much.

Mustang shook his head decisively. "No, you can take the room on the left. I'll sleep on the couch."

She opened her mouth to protest, but then reconsidered. The Colonel was staring at her with a mixture of embarrassment and determination, and she realized that the room was his olive branch, an apology for making her cancel her plans.

Riza sighed. Trying to take care of both Ed and Mustang while simultaneously making sure that they still enjoyed what was left of their trip seemed exhausting. But even if she didn't owe it to Mustang, she certainly owed it to Ed. His life was hard enough as it was, and she didn't want to take away any of the small pleasures that he might have. She simply didn't have it in her.

Ed drew himself up from his spot next to the fire and wandered over to the window. He was still clutching the blanket tight around his shoulders, but his coloring seemed to be coming back a little, at least. As she watched, he peered out of the window, eyes narrowed, face unguarded.

"Look," he said. "The sun is setting. Colonel, can we make a campfire again tonight? Please? And have more s'mores?"

Mustang didn't answer Ed, and instead looked to Riza for approval. Ed saw what he was doing and looked to her too. "It's great, Riza," he said. "Have you ever sat around a campfire? It's really fun and really...safe."

Behind Ed, Mustang nodded vigorously. Riza resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Staying with these boys for more than a couple days was going to be impossible, not if she didn't want to go insane.

But Mustang was right, Ed really didn't seem to be doing to badly. He was still a little pale and shaky, yes, but she had only heard him cough a couple of times and his eyes were bright and excited. Maybe she would only stay a night, just to make sure that Ed didn't get worse, and then she could leave and let them finish out the rest of their trip in peace.

"Yes," she finally said, to both Ed and Mustang's visible relief. "Yes, I could use some dinner. Let's make a campfire."

* * *

Four hours later, and Mustang was trying to find a comfortable enough position on the couch to fall asleep. Sitting around the campfire with Ed and Riza had gone...not as badly as he had expected, to be completely honest. There was one awkward moment where Ed had started excitedly telling Riza about the "Tavern Wench," and Riza had shot him a disgusted look, but aside from that it had been fairly uneventful. In fact, he had rarely seen his lieutenant look so relaxed. At one point, he swore he had seen her giggle. Everyone needed the occasional break from Central, he supposed, even her.

The couch was a little too small for Mustang to lie fully stretched out, but he managed to find a comfortable enough position, with his legs tucked into his chest and his head pillowed on one arm. He closed his eyes, and tried to force himself to relax enough to fall asleep.

But he couldn't, because of Fullmetal's incessant coughing. Every few seconds, he would hear the kid start hacking again from the other room, like he was threatening to cough up a lung. It had been like that ever since he had laid down to go to sleep.

It wasn't the noise itself that was bothering Mustang. Much worse was the way that his chest twisted every time the kid coughed. All he could think was that all of this was his fault. If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened, and Ed would be completely fine right now. He lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and listening to Ed cough, wishing that he could somehow go back in time and change things. It wasn't the first time he'd had that thought.

Eventually, he couldn't stand it any more. He got up from the couch and crept into Ed's room. The constant hacking couldn't be comfortable, surely Ed wasn't asleep? But when he peered into the darkened room, Ed was curled peacefully on the bed, sleeping through the coughs shaking his small frame. Mustang shook his head, unsure why he'd come. Of course Fullmetal was alright.

Still, it was nice to know that someone, at least, was getting a good night's sleep. Exhausted, Mustang returned to the couch and collapsed. He closed his eyes, and in spite of Ed's coughing, was finally able to fall asleep.

He was woken from an uneasy doze by Fullmetal coughing excitedly above his head.

"Wake up! We need to show Riza how to fish!"

Mustang sat up and stretched. His back cracked and he winced. The couch was not the most comfortable. He looked at Ed skeptically. The young alchemist looked fairly good, if a little pale. But his cough was dry, with a hollow rattle that Mustang didn't like.

"You really want to go fishing?" he asked, leaving "after what happened yesterday" as subtext. Ed heard what he hadn't said and frowned.

"Yeah. I never got to reel that fish in. I want to actually catch something."

Mustang sighed. "Alright. But I would advise against waking the Lieutenant. It's bad enough that she had to come all the way up here."

Ed saw the logic in this and nodded, no more willing to risk the wrath of Lieutenant Hawkeye than Mustang was.

"Why don't you eat breakfast while we're waiting?" Mustang suggested, looking vaguely toward the kitchen. "Surely there's still _something_ left?"

"Ehhh, I'm not that hungry."

Mustang simply stared at Ed, unable to believe what he'd just said. "Fullmetal, I packed food for five days. You ate half of that the first day we got here."

Ed shrugged. "I dunno, I'm just not hungry. I'll eat later. When do you think Riza's gonna wake up?"

"I'm up," Riza said, emerging from the other room. "The excitement was hard to sleep through."

That comment went right over Ed's head, and he smiled and walked to the tackle box. Pausing to cough, he turned to her and said "Hey, Riza, do you wanna know what a spinner does?"

Riza stared at Ed. "You're not...you still want to go fishing, after nearly drowning? I don't think that's a good idea at all."

"No, it is a good idea. I'm really fine. See?"

The kid just stood there for a few seconds. "What is it that you're doing, precisely?" Riza asked after a moment.

"I'm not coughing."

Riza shot Mustang a look, as if silently asking him if he was going to stand for this. Mustang involuntarily backed up a few steps.

"Come on," the kid whined. "We're having so much fun fishing. I love fishing."

Mustang was pretty sure that Ed had said the exact opposite of that just two days before, but he wasn't going to complain. He just looked at Riza, waiting for an answer.

"Fine," she finally sighed, throwing her hands up. "We'll go fishing. But only for a couple of hours."

* * *

As it turned out, Ed could barely even last that long. Riza watched as he started to slowly deteriorate over the course of the day. Some of the color that he'd gained back overnight vanished, and he started coughing so much that he was having a hard time catching his breath between bouts. But still, he kept smiling and proclaiming how much he loved fishing. He even managed to catch a small one, with quite a bit of help from the Colonel. Even though he was starting to seem quite ill, he was still clearly enjoying the trip.

The whole time Riza was watching Ed grow weaker, she was also trying to keep an eye on Mustang. He grew quieter as the day wore on. He was clearly unhappy about the boy's condition, and Riza suspected that part of him wished he had forced Ed to get medical attention right after falling in the lake. But it was more than that, Riza knew. It was something bigger, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

And then she caught him whispering.

She had no idea what he was saying, exactly, but it wasn't the content that mattered. Seeing him speaking out loud made all the pieces fit together. Mustang was talking to Hughes. She didn't know what he might be telling him, exactly, but she knew that Hughes' death was weighing on the Colonel even more while he was here than it normally did. She wasn't exactly sure how Ed's presence was going to play into that, but she was sure that it would. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but she knew that if she tried to say something, he'd only be mortified to know that she'd guessed at some of his pain. She had to wait for him to come to her, and knowing the Colonel, that could take quite a while.

Anyway, her main concern right now had to be Ed. The Colonel could wait, but Ed was looking worse by the minute. And almost more worrying than his clammy skin and rattling cough was his lack of appetite. Riza had never known Ed to miss a meal, but he couldn't even eat the fish he caught. And although he'd wanted to sit by the campfire outside, he'd started coughing almost immediately from the smoke. Looking absolutely miserable, he'd left the fireside and gone to bed early.

It wasn't an early night for Riza. She still wasn't sure exactly what was wrong with Ed, but she was horribly afraid that it wasn't just a cold. She sat up for quite a while, just listening, and the light from the living room told her that the Colonel was doing the same.

The next day, Ed was too sick to leave the house. He could barely draw a breath in between coughing fits, and his face had a hectic shine that Riza didn't like. She resolved silently that if Ed hadn't gotten better by the next day, she would take him to the hospital despite any protest he gave.

They spent the day playing board games and trying not to damage Ed's ego with their clear worry about his health. Mustang tried to teach Ed how to play chess, which was an unmitigated disaster. Riza wasn't surprised. Even if Ed had been completely well, she couldn't imagine that he would have any fun playing a game that Mustang would win every time.

As the day wore on, Ed seemed to have more and more trouble drawing breath. Watching him struggle, Riza felt her own chest ache, but every time she asked if Ed was okay, he snapped at her. But his eyes told a different story. They were beginning to look glassy, and sometimes she thought he wasn't quite sure what was happening. Like the previous night, he went to bed early. He was clearly running a fever.

Worried, Riza resolved to stay up with him. His cough seemed to be getting worse, if that was even possible, and she didn't want him to wake up in the night and be unable to breathe. She pulled up a chair beside his bed when she was sure that he was asleep, and settled down for a long night. She hoped that the Colonel was sleeping. The previous morning, he'd looked like he'd spent the whole night awake. He'd seemed oddly distant for the rest of the day. Riza thought he was worried about Ed, but she wished he would just talk to her. She shook her head. Worrying about Ed was bad enough, but having to keep her eye on Mustang, too…she was exhausted.

Then, the door opened and Mustang entered.

"Colonel. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

He stood in the doorway, the shadows hiding his face.

"I couldn't sleep," he said softly. "Why don't you go rest?"

Between them, Ed groaned quietly, tossing and turning fitfully under the blankets. His eyes were closed, but Riza wasn't sure if he was really asleep. He seemed trapped in a fever world somewhere between dreaming and wakefulness. His breathing was labored, his hair pasted to his forehead with sweat. Two fever spots sat high on his cheekbones.

"I...I don't want to leave him," Riza whispered. "What if he needs help? His fever is so high I'm not sure if he'd know what he needed, if he'd even be able to call out…."

"Is he asleep?" Mustang asked.

"I'm not sure. He's...it doesn't seem like he knows what's going on though…."

"Edward?" Mustang said, voice a little bit louder. The alchemist stirred faintly, but didn't react aside from that.

"Colonel!" Riza whispered sharply. "Don't wake him."

"See?" Mustang said, softer now. "He is asleep. We don't need two adults to watch over a sleeping kid. I can do it on my own. Just...go get some rest."

Riza opened her mouth, prepared to start protesting again, but then she realized what Mustang was doing. He still felt guilty over what had happened to Ed, and he was trying to take responsibility for that, and offer Riza this small kindness. Normally, Riza wouldn't trust the Colonel with something like this, not with taking care of Ed in this way. But she could see in his eyes that he understood the severity of the situation. Ed would be safe with him.

"If he gets any hotter, you can run a washcloth under some cold water and put that on his forehead. Don't make it too cold though. You might need to get some more blankets from the closet if he starts to shiver again. He might wake up and want a glass of water, so make sure you get that too. And make sure you watch his breathing, make sure he's taking in enough air…."

"Lieutenant, I know," Mustang said gently, cutting her off. "I...I can do this. Just go sleep a little bit. I'll wake you if he changes at all."

Riza stood up and walked past Mustang to leave the room. She watched him settle in the chair she had just vacated, and he stared intently enough at Ed that she was satisfied. She didn't think she would get much sleep that night, but maybe she could snatch a few hours.

"Be careful with him, Colonel," she whispered, right before leaving the room. It was quiet enough that she wasn't sure he heard.

* * *

Mustang watched Ed toss back and forth in the bed, his forehead shining with sweat. He was completely exhausted, he'd been intently watching the kid for a few hours and his eyelids were starting to droop. He dropped his head into his hands. He couldn't believe that everything had gone so wrong in such a short time. He should have watched Ed more carefully, should have gotten him out of the water more quickly, should have taken him to a doctor immediately. There was so much he'd done wrong.

"I really messed up, Hughes," he said, softly enough so Ed wouldn't hear him. "I don't know how you managed to have two lives…sometimes it feels like one is more than I can handle. I certainly can't handle two."

In the bed, Ed coughed violently, fighting to breathe. Mustang shot to his feet and hovered helplessly over him, unsure what to do. But then, the coughing stopped, and Ed sucked in a huge breath.

Mustang also took a deep breath and sank back into his chair. Ed turned over and made a small sound. A moan? Mustang frowned and got up again. Was the red on his cheekbones more pronounced? He peered at Ed's face, but he couldn't tell. Gingerly, he rolled up his sleeve and laid his wrist along Ed's forehead, like Riza had done. He frowned. Ed felt hot, but how hot was bad? Wasn't everyone's core body temperature slightly different?

Still, he supposed that a cold washcloth wouldn't do any harm. He got up and did as Riza had said. When he came back, Ed was finally lying still in the bed. Mustang felt his forehead. It seemed a little hotter, but Ed wasn't tossing and turning anymore, and that had to be a good sign. He laid the washcloth on Ed's forehead and sat back down. Ed looked even smaller than usual lying in the big bed, surrounded by mounds of blankets he'd kicked off, and Mustang felt another rush of guilt. Somewhat self consciously, he patted Ed's shoulder.

"Sleep well, Fullmetal," he whispered, then wheeled around at the sound of footsteps. Riza entered the room, yawning.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Better, I think," Mustang said uncertainly. "At least he's sleeping now."

Riza frowned and walked over to the bed. She bent over and felt Ed's forehead, then straightened, wide-eyed. She turned to him, fear and a little anger in her expression.

"He isn't sleeping, he's unconscious! His fever is dangerously high. We need to get him to a hospital immediately."

Mustang felt like he'd been stabbed in the stomach, and he knew what that felt like. "...what?" he gasped.

"Can you carry him to the car? We need to leave now."

Numbly, Mustang wrapped one of the blankets around Ed and lifted him into his arms. He felt Ed's skin burning with an inner heat, and he chastised himself for not recognizing it sooner. _How could I have been so stupid?_

Ed stirred faintly when he felt himself being lifted. "'What's goin' on?" he murmured, eyelids fluttering as he struggled to stay conscious. He squirmed a little in Mustang's arms, and Mustang tried to adjust him so he would be more comfortable. The kid's automail arm was digging sharply into Mustang's sternum, but that was the least of his concerns. All that mattered was keeping the kid as comfortable as possible, and getting him to safety.

"We're taking you to the doctor, Fullmetal," Mustang said.

"No," he whimpered softly. "I wanna stay here…."

Ed's eyes were glassy with fever, and he didn't seem to be able to hold them open longer than a second. His face was flushed. His hair was damp with sweat and the water from the washcloth Mustang had put on his forehead, so it looked almost like he'd just been fished out from the lake again.

"We can't help you here anymore, your fever's too high…."

This time, Ed didn't respond. Mustang wasn't even entirely sure the kid had heard him. His head lolled helplessly against Mustang's chest, bobbing faintly with each step that Mustang took. Every few seconds, he would emit a faint cough.

"He's talking?" Riza said sharply. "Ed? Ed, can you hear me?"

But Mustang shook his head. The movement had briefly stirred the kid from the haze of sickness, but the fever had dragged him back under again. "He's out cold," Mustang said. Riza swore softly, and Mustang's eyes widened slightly in surprise. If the Lieutenant was swearing, than this had gotten pretty serious.

Mustang carried Ed through the main room of the cabin and then down the three steps that led to the cars. There was no way to completely avoid jostling Ed when Mustang stepped down, but he winced in sympathy along with the kid. Fullmetal whimpered slightly, but didn't wake.

"We're taking my car back, right?" Mustang said. "I'll just put Fullmetal in the back, and you can sit back there with him…."

"No," Riza said firmly. "I slept for a little while last night, you've been up for almost twenty-four hours. You are not getting behind the wheel of a car. The last thing Ed needs is a car accident."

"But…."

"But nothing. We're taking my car, and I'm driving. You'll be in the back with Ed."

Mustang wanted to argue, but every time he closed his eyes, he wasn't sure he was going to be able to open them again. She was right, as usual. Without further argument, he opened the door and set Ed down in the back. Ed moaned softly and slid down the seat. Mustang climbed into the car and steadied him. One glance told him that Ed wasn't going to be able to sit upright, so he squeezed as far into the corner as he could go and let Ed stretch out flat.

"Okay, Lieutenant, I think we're ready."

Riza looked back and shook her head. "Colonel, just put Ed's head in your lap. He shouldn't be lying flat anyway. If he's elevated, it'll be easier for him to breathe."

She started the car and pulled out of the driveway as Mustang blinked at Ed. He never would have thought of that on his own. Carefully, he grabbed Ed's shoulders and pulled the kid's head onto his lap. Ed shifted slightly, but didn't wake.

 _I'm really not cut out for this. Hughes, you kept asking why I didn't settle down…_ He looked down at Ed, who had begun coughing again. He watched helplessly as Ed's shoulders shook. _Well, this is why. Because I have no idea what to do in this situation, and this wouldn't have even happened if it wasn't for me. This is all my fault._

* * *

Riza drove through the forested roads as quickly as she dared. She glanced in the rearview mirror, which she had angled to catch the backseat. Ed's eyes were still closed, but his whole body was shaking from the constant coughing, and he was drenched in fever sweat. They weren't that far from Central, maybe an hour, but she was still worried that it might be too long. Ed looked awful.

She returned her gaze to the road before her and did her best not to be angry at the Colonel. She knew that he had just taken Ed at his word, but Mustang had enough stubborn pride that he should recognize it in others. She was angry at herself, too. She should have insisted that Ed go to a hospital immediately, she should have stayed up with him instead of letting Mustang do it. She could have caught his fever earlier, and they would have reached the hospital by now. She should have done more.

Then, the Colonel broke the silence.

"I should have listened to you. Actually, I shouldn't have brought Fullmetal here in the first place. I…I don't know what I was thinking. I just…coming up here alone felt wrong…I wanted...I thought Hughes would have wanted…" He broke off. Then, after a moment, he continued hesitantly.

"It was a mistake. I'm trying to be something I'm not, and now…Fullmetal's sick, all because I wanted to…."

He trailed off, and Riza's eyes widened in a sudden epiphany. She'd known the Colonel felt guilty about Ed's illness, but she hadn't realized quite how much it was tying into his distress over Hughes' death. No wonder the Colonel had been taking it so hard. She glanced back, intending to say something reassuring, and paused as she saw what Mustang was doing. Ed was curled in Mustang's lap, and the Colonel was carefully brushing the boy's matted hair off of his forehead. It was very possibly the most tender thing she had ever seen the Colonel do. He was touching Ed like he was afraid the boy would fall apart if he wasn't gentle enough with him. Riza felt her heart tighten.

"Colonel, this is not your fault," Riza said softly. She wasn't entirely sure that she believed it, but that really didn't matter so much right now. "You did your best. And Ed...he's going to be fine." Riza smiled a little. "He'll probably just remember this as a really fun week."

For a long time Mustang didn't say anything, just continued to push Ed's sweaty hair away from his face and touch his trembling shoulder in a gesture she assumed was meant to be comforting.

Finally, he said something so quiet that Riza couldn't hear it, looking down at Ed the whole time.

"What was that, Colonel?"

"Is...is he going to die?" he finally whispered.

Riza felt her body stiffen slightly. She had rarely ever heard the Colonel sound this afraid. There were already so many ghosts in the cabin for him, she didn't think he could handle another. If the kid died, she didn't think he would ever recover. Especially if he was taking part of the blame.

"No," Riza said, as firmly as she could. "He is not going to die."

"But he's...he's barely breathing."

"He'll be fine."

Riza glanced in the rearview mirror again. Ed had mostly stopped coughing, but his breathing was shallow and uneven, which seemed somehow worse. She could hear a faint rattle in his lungs every time he inhaled. He would sometimes open his eyes for a few seconds, but he didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings at all, or he would have protested the fact that his head was in Mustang's lap. He couldn't keep them open for more than a moment. His body was completely limp, still aside from faint tremors that wracked him every few seconds.

"Colonel, do you still have a blanket you can put over him?"

"But he's burning up…."

Riza thought the shivering might be because the fever was chilling him, and maybe if he had a blanket it would ease some. He seemed like he would be a little more comfortable, at least. But really, Riza had no idea if that would be the right thing or not. The Colonel clearly had no clue what to do about any of this, but really, Riza was just as out of her depth. She had never been trained in anything like this. She didn't know what she was doing either.

But before she could say anything else, Mustang had fished the blanket off the floor of the backseat where it had fallen and spread it tenderly over Ed. Ed barely seemed conscious, but his small body did seem to relax a little with the extra warmth. Mustang tucked the edges of the blanket around Ed, making sure that it wouldn't fall off again.

"He'll be alright," Riza said, to herself as much as to the Colonel. But in the rearview mirror, she saw the Colonel look up gratefully. Painfully aware of the hollow nature of her words, Riza drove on through the night.

* * *

By the time they reached the hospital, Ed's breathing had gotten even worse. Every time he tried to fill his lungs, there was a horrible wheezing rattle. The skin around his lips was a dreadful tinge of blue, and the rest of his skin had lost all color except for the fever spots high on his cheekbones. Mustang felt out of breath just looking at him. There was no way Ed was getting anywhere near enough air to survive, he thought. He was almost glad that Ed was mostly unconscious, because at least he wouldn't be aware of his own lack of air. It was like he was drowning on perfectly dry land…Mustang couldn't imagine a worse feeling.

"Can you carry him?" Riza said, her voice high and panicked. "Come on, we need to hurry…."

Mustang opened the car door, then turned around and scooped the young alchemist into his arms. He came to slightly with the movement, and grasped weakly at Mustang's arms, unable to muster enough breath to say anything. His eyes opened slightly, and the look of panic in them made Mustang's heart ache.

"Hey, Fullmetal, you're alright. You're going to be just fine. Just...please hold on a little longer. Please."  
The kid gasped for air, and Mustang turned towards the hospital and _ran._

Riza got in front of him and pushed the hospital doors open. By this point, Ed's eyes were closed again, his head tucked into Mustang's chest as he fought frantically for breath. In the back of his head, Mustang registered that Riza was talking to one of the nurses, but Mustang wasn't listening to any of that. All he was aware of was Ed fighting for life in his arms. All he could hear was the kid's ragged, labored breathing.

And then someone was taking Ed from him. At first Mustang didn't really understand what was happening, and he automatically backed up a few steps, cradling the kid against his chest. But then he realized it was a doctor, and his arms slowly unlocked and he relinquished the young alchemist. He watched as Ed was laid out on a gurney and wheeled away.

Ed's eyes were sunken into his face, his lips blue with lack of oxygen, his whole body limp and soaked with sweat. He looked very young, in that moment. He looked dead.

The doctors rounded the corner with the kid, and in that moment, Mustang wasn't sure he would ever see him again. He automatically stepped after the gurney, but a doctor stopped him.

"You can't go back there right now." He paused, looking at Mustang quizzically. "Are you…any relation?"

Mustang wavered. Ed's familial situation was…messy, but he was pretty sure that the doctor wasn't going to take "It's complicated" as a valid answer. And he had to get into that room. He couldn't leave the young alchemist to go through this alone. But then Riza stepped forward, and, as usual, she knew exactly what to say.

"Doctor, his parents are…gone. If you're looking for an adult relative, you won't find one. That's the Fullmetal Alchemist, and this man-" she indicated Mustang- "is his commanding officer."

She looked pointedly at Mustang, who pulled out his pocket watch. He showed it to the doctor, who shrugged. "Good enough for me. I don't want to get in the way of the military. You should be able to see him soon."

"He'll recover?" Mustang asked incredulously. He realized that up until now, he'd fully expected Ed to die.

"Yeah, he'll be fine. Pneumonia. Good thing you got him here when you did, and he should stay here for a while, but he'll be fine."

Mustang closed his eyes in silent relief. Behind him, he heard Riza make a small sound and knew that she was feeling the same way. Shaking with delayed terror, they walked to the wall of chairs in the waiting room and sat down.

About an hour later, the doctor returned to the waiting area and led them into Ed's room. He was asleep, and Mustang thought that he looked better. His breathing was still labored, but he wasn't blue anymore, and his fever seemed to have broken. Mustang walked over to the chair by the bed and sat down.

"He won't wake up for a while," the doctor said.

"Then I'll wait."

The doctor shrugged and left the room. Riza took the other chair, and they settled in for a wait. They sat silently for a while, both of them exhausted by the worry of the past few days. Mustang saw Riza looking over at him, uncertainly, as if she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to begin. He didn't help her. He was far too tired.

After a while, Riza left the room to get them something to eat. Mustang stayed with Ed, in case he woke up while she was gone. He yawned. He hadn't slept in a day and a half, and he wasn't sure he could keep his eyes open much longer. Maybe if he just closed them for a minute….

"Hey! Colonel!"

Mustang started awake to find Ed poking his shoulder with a gleeful expression.

"Fullmetal. You're awake."

"Sorry for waking you up," Ed said, not sounding sorry at all. "I just wasn't sure if you were actually asleep."

"That's alright," Mustang replied, swallowing a yawn. However long he'd been asleep, it hadn't been long enough. But that could wait. He looked at Ed carefully. The young alchemist's color was starting to return. He still looked pale, but he didn't look as if he was at death's door any longer. Mustang felt cautiously optimistic.

"The doctors said I have to stay here," Ed said, sounding displeased.

"Yes, well, it was a near thing," Mustang told him. He swallowed uncomfortably, not entirely sure how to go about saying what he had to.

"I'm sorry, Fullmetal," he finally said. "I should have taken you to the doctor immediately. If I had, you probably wouldn't be here right now."

Ed blinked at him wordlessly. Mustang frowned. He'd expected his apology to be slightly better received. Maybe Fullmetal hadn't heard him. Should he repeat himself? But just as he was preparing to start again from the top, Ed spoke.

"It's okay, Colonel. I told you not to take me, and you couldn't have known."

Mustang still felt guilty, but he nodded awkwardly and sat back in his chair. He and Ed sat in silence for a few minutes, and just as he was beginning to drift off to sleep again, Ed cleared his throat.

"Umm, Colonel?"

Mustang opened his eyes and waited.

"When I'm better, can we maybe…"

"Yes, Fullmetal?"

"Can we go back to the cabin?"

"If you really want to," Mustang said, slightly taken aback. Ed nodded happily and lay back down. He shut his eyes and was asleep in a few seconds. Mustang listened to his breathing, which was easier. His eyes closed, and at long last, he slept.


End file.
